Gift or Curse?
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes.
1. It's Winter

Prologue: It's Winter

**A/N: Okay. Okay. Okay. So, this is an AU I'm writing for the movie 'Frozen'. It's dedicated to HTTYD because I saw Elsa and I just thought it'd make an amazing AU, Hiccup as Elsa. I know I cut out Anna completely, but I planned this story before even thinking about it. I realize I'm ruining the movie's message by doing this, but it's only the plot that I'm keeping from Frozen - not the message.**

* * *

Hiccup Haddock squeezed his hands into fists, trying to ignore his father yelling outside his bedroom door. Ice was starting to glow on his bedroom window, a sure sign that winter was coming; but how much of winter would he actually see?

Of course, he had very good reason for staying shut up in his house like a hermit all the time – but that was another story.

The bedroom door flew open and Hiccup gave a start, scrambling back as fast as he could.

"Dad, wait no— but Stoick stormed in without waiting.

He surveyed the room, caught sight of the ice on the windowsill, and his eyes grew cold.

"It's…it's not me," the five-year-old weakly whispered. "I…I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to do it…"

"Stop it!" his father yelled, raising a hand to strike Hiccup on the face. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

Hiccup flinched and dropped his head, waiting for the blow. "It's w-winter," he insisted in a quavering voice. "It s-snows in winter."

The blow came then, when he repeated the season's name, as it always did. A quick, careless smack on the face that his father could give him without even blinking. A swift slap that sent him tumbling to the ground, holding his face.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Stoick howled. "STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP!"

"I can't," Hiccup whispered brokenly, inches away from sobbing. "It's not me…it's not me…I can't…"

He could feel it rising up, a snake about to strike, his palms growing colder and colder…

'Get it together,' Hiccup chastised himself. 'Conceal it, don't feel it'.

His father's boot made harsh contact with his ribcage then and Hiccup gasped from the pain, the tears beginning to race down his cheeks now.

He could feel ice starting, could hear it creaking as it cloaked the windows but in his mindless terror, he could do nothing to stop it.

"STOP IT!"

"It's not me, it's not me!" Hiccup pleaded through his tears, earning him another swift kick. The ice creaked as it spread, coating not only the windows now, but also the next wall over in a thin sheet of ice.

"TAKE IT AWAY!"

"It's an accident!" Hiccup sobbed. "It's an accident!"

"UNDO IT!"

"I'm…I'm tr-trying!" And indeed, he was. Hiccup was focused so hard on trying to melt the ice that it only thickened, spreading around the whole room by now.

"UNFREEZE IT!"

"I c-can't!" Hiccup howled, hiding his face in his hands. The icicles came then, shooting down in a rapid blur, caging him in, forcing his father to step back.

"It's w-winter…" the five-year-old managed through his sobs. "It's winter…it was only an accident…it was _winter_…"

* * *

The eight-year-old boy looked tired and he looked worn, Gobber decided as he stumbled to the door.

"Hiccup?" Gobber asked. "Where's Stoick?"

The boy tensed slightly. "He's out."

Gobber looked the boy up and down again and struggled to think of something to say; the boy looked ragged and beaten; he looked at Gobber with eyes that had deep circles under them.

"Are…you okay?" Gobber asked.

"Yeah," Hiccup replied tiredly, his voice growing quieter. "It's just winter that's got me down."

* * *

His father glanced out the window, watching the snow piling up on the ground. He turned back to his son, hands clasped behind his back, feeling the familiar rage pulsating through his veins. His son had done wrong, and his son had to pay. "Stop it," he commanded angrily.

"I can't," Hiccup replied tonelessly.

Stoick took a step forward, raising his hand threateningly and this got a response; Hiccup moved quickly away, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to stop the ice that threatened on the walls.

"It's your fault," Stoick accused. "You ruined this. Now make it better!"

"I can't!" A hint of anger and hopeless frustration entered Hiccup's tone.

Stoick curled his hand into a fist and let it hit Hiccup hard, on the side of the face. The impact sent the boy tumbling backward. He hit the front of his bed hard, clutching weakly at his face, looking up at his dad with betrayal speaking clearly in his eyes.

Even through the boy's small fingers, Stoick could see the mark he'd left rapidly becoming another bruise.

Hiccup gave a small, slightly choked sob, the emotion ripped from him when he didn't think he had any left. "It's _winter_."

* * *

Stoick stood in the living room, his bags all packed, his Viking helmet on.

Hiccup put his tightly fisted hands, covered by his long sleeves, behind his back.

Stoick hefted the bags on his shoulder, barely even looking at his son. When he'd reached the door, he simply turned and said, "Now don't screw up again while I'm on this voyage. Conceal it, Hiccup. Conceal it and don't feel it."

Hiccup nodded.

Stoick exited the house.


	2. Conceal, Don't Feel

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 2: Conceal, Don't Feel

**A/N: So, yeah. The next part...**

**Um, this is kind of similar to the movie, but also I put my own spin on it. I loved Frozen, yes and this is not me knocking it by changing it. I just wanted to see what would happen. **

* * *

_Three months later_

Hiccup Haddock awoke with a start. He was in bed and it was only early morning; he didn't really have to get up yet.

As he rolled over to go back to sleep, he caught sight of the walls. They were covered in ice, he realized, with a burst of shame at his lack of control.

As he sat up, rubbing his head, he struggled to remember if anything had upset him last night. Sure, it could've been one of those nightmares – but those dreams were only ever bad enough to make him wake up screaming, turning the floor into his own personal skating rink.

The whole room was an ice fortress. He reached over and pulled on his boots and his vest. As he slid his arms through the armholes, he noticed that even his bed had icicles hanging off the edges.

He stood, unsteady on his feet, leaning on the bedpost. Should he even go out of the house today, as unstable as he was?

And that's when he remembered why he had been so upset last night. He couldn't get by being the village screw-up or the village hermit any longer; his dad was to be coming home soon. And that meant that the people in the village, the husbands and wives and children of the men and women that had left would be in the mood to celebrate. And naturally, they'd expect Hiccup to be in the same kind of mood.

Well, he wasn't. His dad's homecoming meant being hit for speaking his mind and getting beaten every day, every morning a reminder of his mother, living in constant fear and anguish, making sure his hands were always covered, making sure he never looked anybody quite in the eye.

He wasn't happy that his dad was coming. He wasn't in the mood to celebrate and he was sure that a celebration was going to happen later that night.

He sank back down on the bed, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep. But, if he slept, he reminded himself, Gobber might come. And he just couldn't allow anybody to see the ice on his walls.

Gobber had come over a number of times since Stoick had gone. Each time he came, he did it out of worry for Hiccup, being shut up in his house all the time with nobody to talk to. He thought maybe the boy was getting lonely and so he saw him whenever he could, sometimes even staying until late into the night.

These visits always panicked Hiccup, who had never had to deal with people before – not in this manner, when all they wanted was to make sure he was okay. The visits stressed him and as a result, the ice on his walls grew even thicker than before until they became a permanent part of the wall.

He rose slowly from the bed and crossed the room. He could deal with people if he didn't have to speak with them one-on-one – and at parties, nobody paid much attention to him. But Gobber would notice. He would notice if Hiccup wasn't there and physically drag the boy down to the docks to give Stoick a "proper homecoming".

The last thing Hiccup wanted was that.

He reached out a hand for his door, leaving a thin coating of ice on the knob as he twisted it; his anxiety was throwing his powers even more out of control than they usually were.

He pulled his sleeves down farther, curling his hands into fists, trying to kill the sudden swell of power.

"Conceal it," he murmured as he reached the door. "Don't feel it."

He gently pushed open the door and stepped out into the boiling summer air and breathed in deep, feeling sweat start on his brow, running down the side of his face.

He walked slowly out of his yard, telling himself sternly that he'd better get used to the hustle and bustle of the village – there'd be such a celebration tonight and he had to be prepared. He hated crowds and he knew if his frustration got the best of him, he might accidentally give the people of Berk a very early winter.

He took a deep breath. He was in control. He was in complete control….he hoped.

* * *

"Hiccup, come help me with this banner!" Gobber called later that evening. A few early stars twinkled in the night sky and fireflies buzzed under the still pink clouds of evening. Hiccup raced across the grass and reached the blacksmith, who was struggling with one side of an enormous banner.

Hiccup pursed his lips as he yanked up the other end, standing on tiptoe to tack up the end. As he glanced down to make sure his end was completely straight, he saw the words written in bright red on the front of the banner:

WELKOM HOM.

Vikings were not known for their spelling and of course this was supposed to spell, 'Welcome home'. Somehow, the fact that there was even a banner made it seem all the more real to Hiccup. The little freedom he always managed to gain whenever Stoick was away was about to come to an abrupt end.

"Are you alright?" Gobber asked him quietly. "You haven't been yourself lately."

Hiccup's hands slipped on the edge of the banner and he almost wanted to laugh. As if Gobber knew who his real self was. And then he spotted a small snowflake forming in his palm and he clenched his hands into fists.

"I'm alright," he replied evenly, fussing with the banner so he wouldn't have to look at Gobber.

Gobber stopped his own work to look at the boy for a long second. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Gobber." His tone was suddenly sharp. "I'm fine."

"You're just alone so often," Gobber persisted.

"Gobber—

"Are you lonely because of your father?"

Hiccup stiffened slightly. "No."

"Well, it's just, he's never been away this long and you're getting sadder and sadder and—

"I get it, Gobber." Hiccup spat out the words, practically ripping the banner right back off as he yanked his hand away from it. _Conceal, don't feel._

A great whoop spread from the front of the crowd. "They're here!"

"They're here?" Gobber dropped his half of the banner and grabbed Hiccup's arm, dragging him out to the docks. "C'mon!"

"Gobber— Hiccup tried to protest.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Gobber coaxed, tightening his grip. It reminded Hiccup of all the times Stoick had grabbed him like this, tightening his grip until the boy cried out and a little bit of panic entered Hiccup's frustration.

He tried to break away, but his strength was such that Gobber didn't even notice. He kept right on barreling forward and Hiccup locked eyes with his father for the first time in months. The cold look in the man's eyes told him without words that a beating was overdue.

Hiccup tensed, suddenly rigid and he could feel the hand Gobber held growing colder and colder…

No, please, not here…no please…

The ice shot out from his palm and he couldn't stop it. It created a small ring on the ground and Gobber slipped as he ran to greet the men. He fell on his butt, looking down at the ice patch in confusion. "It's midsummer," Hiccup distinctly heard him mumble. Stoick's eyes had traveled from the fallen Gobber to Hiccup and, panicking, Hiccup offered Gobber his hand, determined to show Stoick that it was an accident, not him, not him, not him…

Gobber reached up to accept Hiccup's hand, but the ice spiraled out again, shooting into another blast on the ground, this time with little spikes lining the area. Gobber stared at it in horror and the people around began to whisper.

Hiccup stared in horror as his father came nearer and nearer to him; he tried to push through the crowd, but some blocked his way, whispering about him, trying to ask him something.

"Sorcerer!" hissed one Viking.

"MONSTER!"

"FREAK!"

"I ALWAYS KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU, BOY!"

"Let me out!" Hiccup commanded, as harshly as he could and, when they didn't, he willed the ice to come. He sent spikes raining down on every last person who stood in his way, anger and frustration and choking, panicky terror fueling him.

Snow dripped down on his head and he swiped it out of his eyes. He twisted his hand in the motion that he knew would cause the ice to come. It cloaked the ground and spiraled up into the air, freezing people in their places or sending icicles raining down upon them, caging them in.

He could hear Stoick yelling after him and the fear fueled him, giving his feet wings. Stoick had the snow and slippery ice and crowd to deal with; Hiccup had just broken free and he had none of that to contend with. He reached the edge of the shore, only water spreading before him. Dark water, cruel water. It would drag him under, the waves were so rough from the weather.

He looked down at himself, hearing his father's shouting increasing in volume. In a blind panic, he willed the ice to come again, not from his hands this time – from his feet. When he felt the sole of his foot growing colder, just like his palms had so many times before, he stepped out into the open ocean on a patch of ice. He raced on, over the water, letting the ice carry him, the anger and fear keep him going.

He disappeared into the night, leaving his father yelling from the shore, screaming obscene curses. He put one foot on the ice and it cracked, sending the man plunging into the ocean. And maybe Hiccup had instigated that, too.


	3. Discipline

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 3: Discipline

**A/N: Yeah. I don't know, okay? I guess I just wanted to do this before the 'Let it Go' sequence. Sorry it's short :P **

* * *

Gobber watched Hiccup disappearing in the night, the creaking of the ice growing fainter and fainter. He could only stare after him; how could Stoick the Vast, O Hear His Name and Tremble, have…have…have kept this a secret? From his own village!

Sorcery! Sin! Secrecy! A thousand words to describe what he had just witnessed raced through his mind and he ran through his last conversation with the boy.

"_Are you alright? You haven't been yourself lately."_

"_I'm alright."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes, Gobber. I'm fine."_

"_You're just alone so often."_

"_Gobber—_

"_Are you lonely because of your father?"_

"_No."_

"_Well, it's just, he's never been away this long and you're getting sadder and sadder and—_

Gobber closed his eyes. Hiccup had probably been struggling with the desire to turn him into ice shards by that point.

How could Stoick have done this? How could Hiccup have done this? Stoick, after all, was their chief, their confidante, and their defender. And how could Hiccup have done this? The snow was still falling thickly over the scene and Hiccup was becoming harder and harder to see across the dark water.

Gobber looked at Stoick worriedly; what was going to happen now?

* * *

He'd always been an odd boy, Astrid thought to herself as she watched him disappear. Always so odd, so quiet, so shy – so unwilling to mix with other people.

That started to make sense now as she gazed out after him into the night. And then she turned her attention to the weather.

The snow was falling thick and fast and the people, having dressed in thin clothes due to the warm weather, were starting to shiver. Astrid wasn't sure what to make of the sudden winter spell; would it fade the farther away Hiccup got from the island or would it continue on? She shivered a little, wrapping her arms around herself, sneaking a few peeks at Stoick's thundercloud scowl. No doubt about it, that scowl meant nothing good.

* * *

Stoick hauled himself out of the ocean, dripping wet, shaking with cold and absolutely furious. He couldn't believe his son. Was he so weak he couldn't control himself for a few hours? Was he so stupid that he thought he could show off his powers in front of Stoick – in front of the whole village, in fact – and not expect punishment? Stoick had never raised the boy like this. He'd taught him with a firm hand that he was never to use his powers, not after the blizzard he'd caused that had killed Val the way it had…

He just knew the boy had been behind that, that he was behind this eternal winter, hoping to repeat what he'd done ten years ago. Well, Stoick was going to teach him that was wrong. The boy was going to learn. And he was going to learn quickly.

He glanced around at his shivering people for a second and his anger subsided slightly. He had to be a chief first – and then he could deal with Hiccup.


	4. Let it Go

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 4: Let It Go

**A/N: Well, here's the next chap :D **

* * *

The ice shot along into the night, growing faster than Hiccup had ever believed possible, thick and fast and strong as the snowstorm he had left behind.

He could feel sweat still running down his brow and he wiped at it frantically, thinking fearfully of Berk. Would they send people after him? Would Stoick come after him?

He didn't think about where he was going. He just _ran._

When he reached the island he didn't even know he had been heading for, he found it to be an uninhabited place. He sank down gratefully onto the sand, feeling the grit beneath his palms. He lay back on the shore, feeling the power surging through him, along with anger and fear and frustration. Would his father find him? What would happen?

He jumped up and started pacing, unable to stand not knowing, running through every possible scenarios in his mind.

_"It's all your fault!" Stoick howled. "STOP IT, STOP IT!" he raised a fist and Hiccup flinched back._

Hiccup looked down at his hands. All his life, he'd had to shut people out and lie. He'd had to take every beating his father gave him without question, never let anyone in, never let them see, conceal, don't feel. He had never once considered that there would ever be a time in which he could use his powers without fear; could he really do it without being told off or beaten later?

"Don't let them in, don't let them see," he repeated to himself quietly, using his father's favorite expressions for this secret. "Be the good boy you always have to be. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let them know."

He slowly pulled up one sleeve, freeing his hand and staring down at it; could he do it? Did he have the courage?

He half expected his father to swoop down on him where he sat, breathing fire and dragging him all the way back to Berk, screaming the whole way there. And when they got back, he'd beat him, he'd do it until he was black and blue and sobbing, sobbing, just begging for the man to stop. He'd do it until tears ran down Hiccup's cheeks and the ice was all around the room. He'd do it until Hiccup begged for mercy and even then, he'd keep doing it…

Hiccup tried to shake off the thoughts; the mere idea was so upsetting that a light snowfall had begun.

"Well, now they know, Dad." Hiccup whispered, letting a small snowflake form in his palm.

He opened his other hand, pulling the sleeve down, trying to assemble his thoughts. He let a blast of ice form, living and dying in his hand and it suddenly occurred to him that he had nobody. Nobody to answer to. No rules, no expectations. No instructions. No right, no wrong. He could do anything he wanted. His father was far away and so were all the people he could risk hurting, just like he'd hurt…his mother…

He closed his eyes as he thought of her. Tonight wasn't going to be like that day, though, he insisted to himself. He had better control and it was midsummer. It hadn't been he that had done it to her; the blizzard had been doing it from the start.

He couldn't let thoughts like these cripple him.

He raised his hands up again, inspecting them. "I'm going to let it go today," he whispered to himself. "Let it go."

He raised a hand and brought more snow falling down, thicker and faster, but not so fast that it would hinder his work. It was quicker than he had expected, though and he glanced down at his hands worriedly. He shook it off and smiled into the sky, letting the snow sting his face. Did it matter if he lost control? He was alone; he couldn't hurt anybody with this and that was the way it should be.

"I can't hold it back anymore, Dad," Hiccup mumbled and suddenly he wasn't sure whether he was speaking to his father or not anymore; did he dare speak to him this way?

But it didn't matter. His father wasn't around to hear him. He didn't care what anyone said anymore.

He glanced around at the snowy landscape, wondering what else he should do. After a few minutes, he found himself marveling at the way the fears that had controlled him his whole life…they couldn't get to him anymore. He let out a joyful laugh, thinking of all the times he'd lied whenever winter came around, told everybody around him it was just winter that had got him down, it was just the cold…

The only reason he had ever hated winter was because that was when his father's beatings grew worse. He had dreaded the end of autumn, knowing what it would bring and now he didn't have to worry about that anymore. No more beatings, no more lies, no more excuses for the bruises on his face…and the cold never bothered him anyway.

His vest was starting to grow too warm on him, even in the light snowfall and so he did the thing that came naturally; he slid his arms out of the sleeves and took it off. He let it fall into a soft snow pile, kicking fresh powder over it, burying it. It was part of his life on Berk, and he decided that right then and there, he didn't want anything to do with Berk. He was starting a new life, here and that was all that mattered.

He ran from the vest, looking around at the snowflakes, drinking in the sight…

Without even thinking of what he was going to form, he threw his hands out, calling forth his power, letting it out, letting it go…

Halfway through, his thought turned to a staircase made of ice and it came out, rather sloppily, and covered in more snow and ice than was necessary, as the thought had only been half-formed.

He ran up to the staircase, taking in every inch. This was his handiwork. He had made this. Nobody was judging him for it. This staircase was the start of his new life. He put one foot on the first step, feeling that surge of power again. From here on out, things could only get better.

He raced up the steps, throwing his arms out as he ran, feeling the ice leaving his hands as he did, making him feel a slight jolt. The power had been untouched for so long that it felt a little scary to be using it. He would get used to it, he assured himself. Everything would be fine.

He formed a railing for the staircase, stretching it, longer and longer, just enjoying the feeling of power, the feeling that, for a moment, things would be alright. This was the best moment of his life.

He arrived at the top of the staircase, the very peak, and, looking down at the near vertical staircase he had formed, he decided his work on that particular item was done.

He turned his attention to his more practical thoughts; sure, it was great fun to be using his powers and everything, but what about his home? Where would he sleep and where would he live? Would he just live on this island, at the top of this staircase?

No, he decided. He would have a defense mechanism, something that would alert him to any unwanted visitors. His father wasn't getting to him anytime soon. He had the power of a whole season on his side. No more beatings, no more bruises, no more lies. No more concealing. No more not feeling.

He slammed his boot down on the ground, hard, icing over the whole ground in one move. Boy, was he glad these islands were uninhabited. He breathed in deep and opened his hands. Ice streamed out in a purple and blue and white glow, sparkling and winking in the night air from the stars. He squeezed his eyes tighter shut in concentration…

_Good. Now make a couple icicles on the overhang, just in case anybody tries to stop by…that'll be your defense…_

_Now make the doors just a little bit taller…you want to be alone, remember…_

When he opened his eyes, he was exhausted but happy with his work. The castle was even better than he had imagined in his mind and he smiled, walking out in a daze to the railing that overlooked the whole island, the ocean, his staircase…everything.

He could see any ships that were to approach for miles. He walked slowly back inside, looking down at his clothes. They were stained with dirt and grime and they spoke too clearly of Berk.

He opened his hands, letting the ice stream out again, but this time, he let it fall onto his boots, constructing himself new ones, ones made of ice and snow…

Armor made entirely of ice, he thought as he worked, staring down at himself in concentration. Icicles on the shoulders, sticking straight up like spikes. Thick, defensive armor. Tight shoulder pads that defended against any enemy's attack. A way to defend himself. Nobody could hurt him anymore. Let them try to raise their hands against him – let them try. He had a way to defend himself now and he wasn't afraid to use it.


	5. Just in Case

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 5: Just in Case

**A/N: I guess I did this because I wanted everybody to see life on Berk and how Astrid is dealing with it, I guess? I have chapter 6 already written, I just have to go back and touch it up a little as I wrote it before I wrote this chapter. I hope to see you all again soon! Astrid is a very slippery character to write, so I'm not sure how well I grasped her. I know she's definitely gonna go there and fall back on Viking aggression. **

* * *

Astrid Hofferson stared down at her axe, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. It wasn't the face reflected back at her in the rusty metal that displeased her; it was the conversation she was hearing from inside the forge.

"…Always knew he would do this," her chief fumed from the other side of the door. The heavy footsteps pounding back and forth would've been a result of his incessant pacing; he'd been doing that a lot since his son had disappeared.

Astrid sighed, lowering her axe as she thought of it. His son. Her once best friend. Her once only friend. And she had once been his only friend, too.

She had always remembered their final conversation with hurt and then anger that spawned from the hurt and then bitterness that spawned from the anger. As a result, she had never quite gotten over everything that had happened between them.

There had been a time when they were inseparable. They did everything together – she vainly tried to teach him how to throw an axe and he had vainly tried to teach her to draw. And then, one day, he had just shut her out. No explanation. No hello when they passed each other on the streets. No more secret smiles and winks and jokes shared between just the two of them. Nothing but silence from his end. Silence, never meeting her eyes, speaking in a formal and detached way whenever she tried to ask him what was wrong.

She glanced down at her axe again as she thought of it and when she caught her reflection in the metal she was surprised to see her face was sad. She thought she'd gotten rid of the last of the sadness a couple years back, after he'd dumped her, but that clearly wasn't the case. Things were finally starting to make sense about him now, and the last thing she wanted to do was think about their previous friendship. In the end, was she still interested in being friends with him? What if he was dangerous?

_No_, she thought to herself firmly. _Whatever he is, he's not dangerous. _

"…What could you possibly say that would get him to come back?" Gobber was asking tiredly. Astrid didn't want to hear any more of the conversation, wanted to block it out completely, but the words attacked her ears. "He's never coming back here, Stoick."

"I'll _make_ him." Stoick's voice was low and dangerous.

There was a short, eerie silence.

"No." Gobber said suddenly. "No, Stoick, you _can't_—

"Pain is the only language a monster can understand." Stoick snarled.

"Hiccup is not— Gobber began indignantly, but he couldn't finish before Stoick interrupted.

"Look around. Our island is trapped in an eternal blizzard; our people are dropping like flies; nothing is showing any sign of relenting…" there was a short pause. "Tell me now that he's not a monster."

"I'm going out to find him," Stoick continued harshly, when Gobber offered no response. "Unless you've got any better ideas."

Another silence. A silence in which an idea began to take shape in Astrid's mind.

"You won't hurt him." Gobber said firmly, confidently; but how deep did that confidence run? Astrid found herself wondering. "That's your son."

"Watch me." Stoick sneered.

Astrid barely had time to slip off to the side before the door rattled loudly and at last flung open. As Stoick stomped out, Astrid took a breather, peeking into the forge to see Gobber, looking a little shell-shocked at Stoick's last few words.

He stared blankly after the chief, as if waiting for the man to say it was all a big joke.

Astrid quietly cleared her throat to announce her presence. Gobber jumped slightly, turning to her and hitching a smile on his face. "Hey, lass. Need your axe sharpened?"

She considered it for a brief second; she didn't really need it sharpened, but if she got it sharpened, it would give her an excuse to talk with him about what she'd just heard. "Yeah. Here."

She handed her axe off to the blacksmith and he stumped over to the grindstone.

She raised her voice to be heard over the screech of metal on stone. "So, what do you think?"

"What do I think of what?" Gobber asked, turning his attention away from the axe to talk with her.

"About…you know…" she gestured with her hands. "Everything." She wasn't normally one to gesture; Hiccup was the one to awkwardly play with his hands as he talked, but she found herself more willing to do it now that she wasn't quite sure how to proceed with her present conversation.

His mouth dragged down at the corners. "About Hiccup." he guessed shrewdly.

Astrid dropped her gaze to the wooden floor; again, shyness was so unlike her. "Anybody would be worried about him."

"No, Astrid." Gobber corrected. "Anybody would be afraid of him right now."

"But Hiccup isn't dangerous," Astrid insisted.

"Can you prove that?"

Astrid was silent for a long second. In fact, her silence lasted so long that Gobber finished sharpening her axe, the shriek of metal on stone died away at last and he stumped over to her to hand her the axe.

She looked up at him, but she didn't take it. "I can prove he's not dangerous. If one of us could only find him and bring him back to Berk to get him to stop this…then nobody would think he was dangerous anymore, and the winter would be over."

Gobber made a noise of protest.

"What?" Astrid looked up at him, her heart nearly beating right out of her chest. "Don't you see, it's perfect! I could help Berk and remove their silly fear at the same time!"

"There are a lot of holes in that."

"Yes," Astrid sighed. "I can see it's going to take some planning already, obviously. I mean, I don't even know where he is, but…I was only thinking…" she stole another glance up at Gobber. "We were friends, don't you remember? I was only thinking that maybe, maybe he might listen to somebody he knows."

Gobber frowned thoughtfully. "It's a good idea," he began hesitantly, "but the one thing you'd need to do is clear it with Stoick. Oh, and pick a few people to go with you. Just in case," he added.

Astrid nodded, gently taking her axe from Gobber's hands. "Thanks."

_Just in case. Just in case._

The word echoed in her head until Astrid began worrying that maybe it meant something; did Gobber think Hiccup was dangerous, too?

A little bit of doubt began to creep up on Astrid's certainty. Was he dangerous?


	6. In Solitude

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 6: In Solitude

**A/N: So. This is the next chapter. This is posted very soon after chapter five purely because I wrote this one before chapter five, it was supposed to be chapter five and the content of chapter five wasn't here. However, I made the decision that people should know what was going on on Berk while Hiccup enjoyed his freedom and so chapter five got really changed. **

**I doubt anybody realizes who Johann is supposed to be from Frozen, so I'll just spill the beans right now: he was supposed to be that guy who ran the shop and was like, 'big summer blowout!' xD I loved that guy. He was literally amazing. I wish you'd gotten to see more of him xD **

**I highly doubt Kristoff or Hans or the Duke of Weaseltown will ever appear in this story - like, I mean, somebody to take Hans' place or Kristoff's place. I mean, some of the people in this story will mimic certain people's actions. Like, for instance, Astrid mimics a couple of Anna's actions in one of the next few chapters, Hiccup mimics some of Elsa's, Stoick mimics some of Hans', some of their parents...etc, etc. And Gobber probably is the closest thing to Kristoff you guys are gonna get xD **

* * *

Hiccup groaned as the light of the sun shone on his face. "Go away," he muttered to no one in particular. "Let me sleep. I'm too tired to deal with this."

The sun beat down relentlessly on the boy's face. Hiccup covered his eyes with his arm, turning away to block it out. He wondered idly if his clothes would melt in the light of the sun. He had never actually considered that before. It would be awkward to wake up just an hour or so later and find that he was completely naked.

It was this thought, above all, that forced him to get up and check his clothing to make sure it wasn't melting.

"Now that I'm up, there's no point in trying to go back to sleep," he murmured; he'd always had a habit of talking to himself and it came out more prominently in the mornings. He went over to the window and looked out, leaning on the sill and smiling into the sun that warmed his face. "Good morning," he chirped cheerfully to an imaginary person and then he spun around and started for his castle doors, smiling to himself.

He ripped open the huge doors, admiring the snowflake imprint on them that he'd never actually meant to put there, and then skipped down the steps, smiling at nothing and at everything.

For many days, Hiccup had stayed locked away in his tower, testing his powers, pushing his limits to see just how far he could go. And every night, he collapsed into bed, exhausted and worn, but pleased with the day's work.

As for his fortress, he was constantly adding things onto that; an extra staircase when he discovered something new he could do. The railings of stairways were good to practice on.

Every morning, he would descend from his fortress, run joyously down the stairwell and use his icicles to catch fish. His ice often made it hard to start fires, but he persisted anyway.

This morning was the morning that changed his routine.

As he descended the staircase, he spotted a ship out on the water, heading slowly towards the island.

He felt a bolt of sharp fear run through him and he started to run back up his staircase, his hands slippery with sweat on the railing. He would lock the doors and bolt them and…

But wait. He paused, halfway up the stairwell, and took another cautious peek at the ship coming his way and nearly laughed with relief. The ship wasn't from Berk. The sail bore no crest. He was safe. He was okay.

He took his hands away from the railing and they were shaking rather badly, for despite his brave talk, he really was terrified that the people of Berk would come for him and he would be rendered defenseless, just like he always was…

His hand found the stairwell's railing again, gripping it rather tightly as he tried to steady himself.

But then, if these people weren't from Berk, who were they and why would they be visiting his island? Should he freeze the water and not allow the boat to come any closer?

No, he decided reluctantly, looking down at his hands. A frozen sea would raise eyebrows.

He nervously anticipated who it might be. He stood there for a few minutes more, trying to decide what to do. By the time he had decided to see who was on the boat and what they wanted, the ship had already reached shore.

He reached the beach just at the same moment that the person on the boat did and looking at him, Hiccup realized he knew this stranger.

Trader Johann had come to Berk often, willing to trade his goods from around the world with the people of Berk. He had never seen Hiccup before, for Stoick had locked Hiccup away in his room every time Johann came. But Hiccup had watched longingly from his window and now recognized the trader.

Johann smiled at Hiccup in a welcoming fashion. "Hello, hello." he greeted cheerfully, "are you from the new tribe?"

"What new tribe?" Hiccup looked mystified.

"Well, when I left the Archipelago this island was uninhabited. When I came back, I saw the castle." he motioned to Hiccup's ice palace and continued, "I assumed a new tribe had sprung up."

"Oh, no, no new tribes," Hiccup responded. "It's just me."

"Hmm." Johann looked up at the castle, his eyes agleam with admiration for the artwork. "Who helped you make it?"

"Oh, you know, people here and there," Hiccup shrugged.

"You live all alone here?"

Hiccup nodded.

"It looks lonely," Johann commented.

Hiccup knew the trader's comment was not intended to wound, but his tone still came out sharper than the last time. "I wanted to be alone."

Johann tapped a finger on his chin in thought. "Understandable."

"Now," he continued suddenly, "for the real reason I came." he offered Hiccup a small grin. "I like to welcome new tribes by offering them a chance to see my goods. Would you like to?"

"Oh, no, thank you," Hiccup shook his head. "I don't have anything to trade with."

"It's alright." Johann chuckled and then bent down to Hiccup's height, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Between you and me, you seem like a nice lad and I'll let you have something for free. But we can't go around talking about that!" he drew away from Hiccup and stood up again, letting out a chuckle. "It would ruin my whole reputation!"

Hiccup laughed a little, surprised by how quickly he had come to like this man and how easy it was to conceal his powers around him. He hadn't had to hide them for days, that was true; but they came so naturally to him, he expected it to be harder to hide them, if ever need be.

"It's alright." he told him. "I doubt there would be anything on your ship that would interest me."

"Why don't you come aboard and see?" wheedled Johann.

Ten minutes later, aboard the man's ship, Hiccup examined table after table of goods.

"Funny, you know this island," Johann frowned. "It's only summer and it's snowing."

Hiccup's grip slipped on the sword he had been looking at; he quickly set it up again the way Johann had it. "Oh, well, you know how it is. It likes to snow year-round."

"Really?" Johann's frown deepened. "You aren't the only one, then. The people of Berk, now, they're in a real deep freeze right about now. It's a real howler for July."

The spyglass in Hiccup's hand fell to the floor and shattered. He kicked the broken spyglass beneath a table before Johann could see it. "Oh. That sounds interesting."

"…and the people seem so upset," Johann barreled on, unaware of how ill-at-ease he was making his customer. "I mean, that chief has always been a little, how shall we say it, stoic." Johann chuckled at his own joke. "Still," he continued, suddenly serious again, "he seemed much…different the last time I saw him."

"Different like how?" Hiccup asked nervously, despite insisting to himself that he did not care.

"Well, I'm not really sure it's my place to go spilling all of his personal business," Johann said thoughtfully, rubbing at his goatee.

"Did he seem…angry?" Hiccup's voice was shaking and barely above a whisper.

"Well, now, he did seem a little…" and then Johann cut Hiccup a suspicious look. "Why?"

"Um…uh…just…just curious." Hiccup flinched inwardly at Johann's disbelieving look, but the trader didn't press him.

"I shall take my leave now." Hiccup tried for a calm, controlled tone.

Johann nodded. "Nice talking with you."

"Same," Hiccup responded politely, walking slowly from the ship. As he stepped back out onto shore, feeling a kind of calmness flow through him now that he knew the trader was leaving soon, he also realized part of him was dying to stay and hear more about Berk.

"You're not careful out there, you're gonna catch frostbite and then, well, speaking of the people of Berk," Johann called down, poking his head out to look down at Hiccup.

Hiccup froze, his hands shaking, his heart beating too fast. "Alright. Thank you for the tip."

He walked swiftly away from Johann's boat, feeling a slight sense of guilt start chewing on him. Had he really set off an eternal winter? He ran up the stairs leading to his fortress, letting his cloak catch the wind and fly out behind him in a streak of sparkling periwinkle.

He came to a stop at the top of his staircase, the door of his castle, taking a quick breather. He rested a palm on the stair railing, watching ice sparking feebly on his palms; he didn't have enough focus to use it.

He slowly pushed open the door to his fortress, slipping quietly inside the ice foyer and staring around at the maze, the staircases and hallways and mirrors. A castle of isolation and he was officially the king.

He sank down onto the floor, his back against the door, burying his head in his hands. Just when it seemed things could be okay, when he could finally be free, he realized he was a fool and that he could never be free. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't do it anymore.

His breathing was coming fast and shallow as he leaned back against the door, listening to the echoes of his noises bouncing back, coming back to him, half-remembered and soon to be forgotten. It was only him in this little castle. He had no one to turn to about this.

And just like he deserved. He'd wanted to be alone. He was making himself less and less possible to love or even tolerate, every hour, every minute, every day.

He dropped his head on his knees, feeling tears beginning to build up in his eyes. After all he had done, all the times he'd lied, this was what it was to come to? Him forced into solitude, exiled by his only tribe, living in constant fear of his father and with a complete inability to use his power? More concealing? More not feeling?

He closed his eyes against the panic. There was so much fear. If he wasn't careful, Berk wouldn't be the only place stuck in eternal winter.

Would he never be allowed to give himself freedom? Would he constantly have to be in a cage, for fear of hurting everyone around him? He squeezed his hands into fists, his eyes shut tight.

No. He couldn't. Not after having freedom. He couldn't conceal, don't feel, not after…this. He'd just have to control himself better. The winter on Berk would wane, he was sure of it.

He just had to get it together. He didn't have to give himself total and complete freedom. Maybe he could tone it down just a little bit and then things wouldn't be nearly so bad.

Yes, he decided, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes to rid them of the tears, because he was pretty sure that his new life should come with no tears. He was just going to go along as he had before. Everything would be just fine.


	7. Best Left Alone

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 7: Best Left Alone

**A/N: So, I discovered that I should work on my 'Starlight, Star Bright' story today. I really don't want to talk about it. It's been way too long. I finished this chapter last night and meant to post it this morning, but I was sick today and completely forgot. I recovered well thanks to cheeseburger pizza and watching Brave for the fourth time :) I don't watch that movie often enough :) my love for HTTYD eclipses it. **

**Sorry this chapter took so long, I guess I was struggling with where to take everything even though I knew exactly where I wanted to go *huffs* **

* * *

When Hiccup awoke the next morning, it was a few minutes before he remembered why he was in front of the door, his knees pulled up to his chest. He put a hand up to his head, feeling sweat running down into his palm.

Everything would be okay. Nobody was around to see this. Nobody was around for him to hurt. It wasn't like it had been on Berk, when he was constantly surrounded by people.

Things were different here. And he'd just have to remember that.

He wasn't very hungry, but he stood up and walked out the doors anyway. As he descended the spiral staircase, he thought to himself that an early morning walk and a bit of food would get him back to normal – at least, that's what he wanted.

He ran a hand down the railing, letting a small bit of ice coat the railing, swirling around it in a sparkling stream. He smiled slightly. He was free and nothing was going to take that away from him.

He was almost at the bottom when he allowed his eyes to drift farther, over the open ocean.

Distantly, on the other horizon, he could see a ship fast approaching. He shaded his eyes against the sun with one hand, trying to squint into the distance to see what kind of ship it was. The panic that had fueled him yesterday was gone.

For some reason, the trader's visit had given him a confidence that he did not previously have; it felt like confirmation that the people of Berk simply didn't care enough to seek him out. In fact, the winter on their island had probably waned by now, anyway, he assured himself. He reached the bottom of the staircase and went to the very edge of the water, looking out over the open ocean, watching for the ship.

He wasn't even sure the ship was heading for his island. Most people knew this place was uninhabited. The only person who had use for an uninhabited island was an exile like him. And, as far as he knew, all the other exiles fled to Outcast Island.

Hiccup shrugged it off and leaned down closer to the water to catch himself breakfast.

Within an hour, the ship was close enough for Hiccup to identify it. With relief, he noted that it was not a warship; it was a tiny escape craft, barely big enough for more than one average Viking.

This could be seen as both threatening and relieving; threatening because Stoick would never take an army. He'd be afraid that he'd lose his temper and haul off and smack Hiccup in front of people and nobody must ever know about the years of beatings Hiccup had suffered.

But it was also relieving, because, at least then, Hiccup only had his father to face.

Yeah. Only his father. But the mere thought of being alone with this man made his stomach clench.

Within another hour, he could see that the Viking ship did indeed carry the Berk crest on its sail.

Panic clawed at him, blinding him to everything but the fact that his father was coming for him and why the hell was he standing here like a sitting duck waiting for it?

His boots pounded on the sand as he ran blindly, up the staircase, his boots making the spindly ice creak. His hands were slippery with sweat on the railing and he could feel ice streaming out of his palms, but he let it come because he knew if he tried to hold it back, it would only make it worse in the long run.

He reached the doors and pushed them open feverishly, slamming them shut again, running across the ice foyer, barely making it to the second staircase before he sank to his knees, clutching weakly at the railing. His father was coming. What Johann had said last night had been true. His father was coming. His father was going to beat him. He was going to get beaten. He was going to get beaten. He didn't want his father to beat him anymore.

The feeling of panic running through his veins seemed to chill him far worse than his wintry fortress ever could. What should he do? Should he try for a calm, composed approach? Yes, that was always best – trying for calmness always worked. If he just didn't panic, nothing would happen. He wouldn't set off any more eternal winters. The key was to keep calm.

Leaning heavily on the railing, he managed to pull himself into a standing position, his legs shaking beneath him. He hauled himself all the way up to the top of the staircase, still using the railing as his beam of support. He slowly drew his hands away from it, clasping them tightly together so he wouldn't be tempted to use his power.

There came a sudden knock on the door, echoing hollowly throughout the castle. Hiccup allowed the doors to open, wondering how much he'd regret it.

* * *

Astrid could only stare at her former, childhood friend. He had changed…so much.

His face was relaxed into a warm, welcoming smile; his eyes were kind, none of the cold hardness in them. His clothes had changed, too. Instead of the simple cotton garb most Vikings chose to don, he had fashioned himself elaborate and intricate armor, a cloak decorated with a pattern of snowflakes falling from the shoulders.

"Hiccup." Astrid whispered, edging farther into the foyer. She tried telling herself she was merely surprised, but her gaze wasn't just shocked; she was actually admiring him. He looked…good. Really good.

Her feelings were lost on Hiccup, who simply offered her a polite yet formal smile. "Astrid. It is good to see you again." His voice was strange, like he was trying to retrain his tongue to speak.

"Nice to see you, too." Astrid said honestly. The warmth in her voice caused Hiccup to color slightly as, for the first time, he noticed the approval in her eyes as her gaze scanned his body.

Hiccup leaned against the railing, shifting his position so she couldn't look at him in that way anymore, but he continued to drink her in as though he had never seen her before; his serene smile was starting to get to her.

"Listen, Hiccup, I…I need to talk to you." she tried weakly. She normally wasn't so unconfident. She had been planning to storm in here and just start talking. She wasn't prepared for this. And she wasn't prepared for him to look so different, be so different…and yes, okay, he did still look good. But that so wasn't the point right now.

"So talk." Hiccup told her.

_So talk. So talk. So talk._ The two words echoed over and over in the castle, bouncing along the walls. The effect of everything said in this castle echoing was beautiful but also slightly eerie.

Astrid began climbing the stairs. "Hiccup—

Hiccup's serene smile vanished and his stiff posture suddenly became clearer as he backed quickly away.

Astrid, recognizing defeat, slumped down on the fifth step, staring up at him in his shining ice armor and sparkling cloak. "I know I'm putting you in a kind of bad position," Astrid told him and she honestly did. She didn't want to do this to him, but she had to ask. "But you have to do something about Berk."

He flinched at the mention of his island's name, a look of fear entering his eyes.

"I understand why you shut me out." Astrid told him, standing up suddenly. "And that's okay. But what's not okay is setting off an eternal winter and then just…" she let her arms drop back by her sides. "…leaving it. That isn't."

Another flinch. Another look of fear. "I didn't mean to."

"I thought you didn't."

There was a short silence.

"Still," Astrid plowed on, determined to get things back on track, "it's okay. You can just unfreeze it." she offered him an encouraging smile.

"No," Hiccup mumbled through very white lips. "No, I can't."

Astrid's smile dropped suddenly from her face. "What?"

"I don't know how!" Hiccup responded fearfully. "It's supposed to melt on its own!"

"It hasn't!" Astrid told him unnecessarily, actually stamping a foot in frustration. She took another step forward. "How can you not know how? Don't you have some ancient knowledge or something? I mean, for Thor's sake, Hiccup, somebody must have taught you how to use this power!" she gestured to the beautiful ice palace she stood in at the moment, looking down at Hiccup, waiting for his response.

The boy had gone pale and he was taking several quick steps back from her. Without even realizing she had done it, she had gotten close to him – very close. She took a couple quick steps backward and stole another glance at him. His 'you just kicked my puppy' expression seemed to imply that she ought to feel guilty about her outburst, but the only thing she registered right now was frustration. How could anybody make a place as beautiful as this without any knowledge?

She shivered suddenly, pulling her furs tighter around her. She had dressed warmly for the visit, but the light flurry he had suddenly created was not making her any warmer.

He ran a pale hand through his hair. "I…nobody ever taught me anything," he managed to whisper softly. "I…I don't have any instinctual knowledge about this…I'm still just me." he darted a hopeful look up at her, like he was asking her to understand.

Understanding this was the last thing she did. She threw her hands up in the air to express her exasperation. "Can't you figure it out, then? Just think! Didn't your dad ever stop you and tell you, hey, son, just in case you ever set off an eternal winter, here's how to stop it?'"

Hiccup flinched and the flurry in the room suddenly grew that much stronger. A cold wind sprung up, pushing Astrid closer and closer to the window. She shivered, leaning against the wall as she waited for Hiccup's answer – not that she expected much.

He stared down at his hands for a long second. "Is my dad here? Is he here with you?"

"No," Astrid told him honestly. "But…but he's coming!" she added quickly, happily, glad she was able to appease him. Just in case he was potentially dangerous, she was glad to have one thing to keep him happy. The thought stopped her cold. He'd never seemed dangerous to her before. What had changed? Seeing him in his ice fortress? Seeing him in his armor? Seeing him _not_ defenseless?

"What?" Hiccup's green eyes were wide and panicked when they lifted to hers; out of everything else about him that had, his eyes hadn't changed.

"Your dad's coming to come get you to stop the winter – I was kind of hoping he wouldn't need to, cuz' I thought you might listen to me before you listened to him, but clearly, I was wrong, so maybe—

"No!" Hiccup screamed. The wind picked up, roaring in Astrid's ears. "Don't let him come!"

"Hiccup, he's not—

"Don't let him come near me!" Hiccup yelled over the roaring wind. The icicles above Astrid's head were quaking with the force of the snowstorm Hiccup was causing. The snow was swirling so thick and fast that Astrid could hardly see anymore, but the fearful tone of Hiccup's voice stuck with her. What was he so afraid of? Did he know what she knew, about how Stoick planned to get him to stop by force? She felt a prickle of uncertainty. She knew now it was wrong to try and calm him down by mentioning his father; that had only made him worse.

"Get out!" Hiccup cried loudly. "Get out, get out, get out!"

The forcefulness in his voice should have jarred her, maybe even scared her. It only made her think that she should probably consider getting out, but the thought felt idle, even bored. Yes, the wind was picking up and if she stayed like this, she could catch a nasty cold. But Hiccup wouldn't hurt her, she insisted to herself. She had nothing to fear from him.

"I'm going!" she cried back and she felt around for the door handle, but her fingers found only unforgiving wall and she couldn't find the door through all this snow. Something icy struck her heavily in the chest, seeming to penetrate her skin, cooling her inside and out. She winced at the sharpness of the cold, squinting through the snow to see Hiccup, but everything was too blurry.

The feel of a cool doorknob beneath her fingertips at last rewarded her; grinning in relief and eagerness, she opened the door. The storm seemed to drop a little as she stepped out. She stood on the threshold of the castle for a moment. She slowly peeked in to see Hiccup frantically trying to get it to stop; the storm raged on, unaware that its master didn't want it anymore.

Her teeth chattered slightly as she peered in at him, wondering if she should call out to him or not. At last, she let the door slide shut and she slowly descended the spiral staircase. Maybe he was best left alone.


	8. Courage

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 8: Courage

* * *

It was funny how running for your life could take out all thoughts of your once best friend who turned out to have ice powers and a cool new palace made of the stuff, along with armor and a cloak.

This is what Astrid learned as she shakily gripped the staircase railing, hearing a strange sort of growling from just beneath her.

She glanced nervously down from over the railing, before her attention was drawn away from it by the delicate, swirling patterns of the ice on the stairwell. She admired the little snowflake imprints on each step especially.

She bent down to examine them and again wondered whether she ought to leave him here or not. She didn't want to give up on her friend, but his actions today seemed to suggest that maybe he was dangerous, mad, even.

She didn't want to think badly of him, especially not when that was what everybody else was doing, but she couldn't help the slivers of doubt piercing her certainty.

She had come here so sure that he would welcome her in with a warm smile and agree to go thaw Berk. He would prove himself not dangerous, Berk could give up its silly notions that he was and he could come back to the village. Nothing had to be complicated if it happened like that.

She straightened up after her long examination of the ice, trying to remove all thoughts of Hiccup from her head.

There was no way she could convince him to come back to thaw the winter, was there? Because there was no way to thaw it. She could get back and tell Stoick that and then…and then, hopefully, one day, it would melt on its own.

But nothing would be the way it had been before. Everything would be in shambles when she got back. She had left the people terrified. She didn't expect to come back to anything more than that. She continued walking again, taking a moment to glance back one last time, appreciating the palace in silence.

She shuddered suddenly with a blast of cold that seemed to have come from nowhere, and found she had to grip the stair railing for support.

Her knees threatened to buckle under her, but then came that soft growling again, an audible warning.

She made it down the last few steps, but, when she arrived at the foot, the growling increased in volume. She glanced around and saw something that truly terrified her: a dragon made entirely out of ice, rearing up its legs, kicking out in anger, snorting like an angry horse.

She gave a strangled scream and turned to run. She could feel the chill getting worse as it chased her, threatening to make her legs collapse again. She prayed for strength as she ran. The ocean was so close now…if she could just make it to her boat…

She was agile. She was fast. She was athletic. She was going to make it.

And then that odd blast of chill, coming from everywhere and nowhere, hit her again. And this time, her knees really did collapse under her. She was spitting out snow and sand. Her heart was beating painfully fast as she jumped back up, determined not to lose any more time.

Those vital seconds had really done it for her, though. The ice dragon was nearly on top of her now, nose-to-nose, breathing out little puffs of icy breath that smelled like winter.

She couldn't do it. The boat was too far. The open ocean wasn't within her reach anymore. She knew she wasn't going to make it, but she put on another burst of speed, a hopeless attempt at living when she knew she was going to die.

The tide was coming in and it rushed out to greet her as she reached the water's edge, laughing hysterically even as it soaked through her boots. She never thought she'd appreciate the ocean this much, ever again.

The ice dragon didn't like the tide, and he remained where he was, growling threateningly at it as Astrid fell into her boat, taking up the oars. She untied it madly from the docks and, with fumbling fingers, began rowing her way to freedom, to Berk, to another eternal winter surely calmer than this one…

She could do it, yes, she could. She could hear the dragon growling behind her, but that hardly mattered because she was free. He couldn't reach her anymore.

Her heart was hammering with leftover adrenaline, but she hardly cared. All that mattered was getting home, getting away from that…

She focused her efforts on rowing harder, on getting away from the island. She never wanted to look back at that place again.

* * *

By the time Hiccup managed to calm the storm and get it together, icicle spikes were sticking out of the floor, in perfect positions to trip people up.

"Get it together," he whispered to himself, massaging his temples. "Control it."

He could do that, couldn't he? He could control it. He would control it. He wasn't the monster his father had made him out to be and he never would be. He would never, ever use his powers to purposely harm anyone. He would never be a monster.

He paced the maze of his palace anxiously, clearly waiting for something, but even he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe he was waiting for somebody like his father to swoop down on him where he stood and demand him to stop the winter.

And then he'd have to tell the man he couldn't, that he didn't know how and then the man would beat him until he begged and cried, he would beat him until he could hardly move.

The thought quickened Hiccup's pace, try as he might to calm down.

"I can do this," he whispered. "I can do this. I can do this."

He stumbled out the top story doors, looking out over the open ocean to that little speck of a boat in that mass of blue. That boat was already very near the other chain of islands. That boat would make it back to Berk soon. That person on that boat was going to tell everybody what had happened. And then they'd come to demand to know why he couldn't fix the winter, ask him if he enjoyed this.

And who would be leading them?

His gut lurched. Stoick the Vast. Stoick would be on the front line, brandishing his sword and screaming vengeance, ready to tear Hiccup apart if it meant stopping the winter on Berk.

His gut clenched. It would all be over if his father came. He couldn't do it again. Not another beating…not more fear…not more concealing…not more not feeling…

He glanced out over the ocean again, knowing what it would come down to if his father came.

He would have to defend himself. If he didn't, he would become the punching bag again, the only outlet for his abuse. He couldn't take that anymore. There comes a time when you have to stand up for yourself, even if it's against the thing or person you fear most and Hiccup knew that that time had come for him.

But, even if it was time to stand up for himself, he wondered as he gazed down over the ocean still, what if he didn't? What if he didn't have the courage? What would happen then?


	9. Frozen Heart

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 9: Frozen Heart

**A/N: I'm beginning to notice a common theme within these chapter titles xP Furthermore, sorry for my absence, guys! Between my other stories and my other activities, things have been pretty tight lately and I kept forgetting to work on this! However, here is the next chapter and I know where this story is going now and so chapter ten should be up a lot sooner than this one was. I'll try to get chapter ten done quick as this is really only the bridge between chapter eight and ten. **

* * *

"Stoick…" Gobber panted, struggling to keep up with his best friend. He limped along on his prosthetic, ducking several people carrying supplies, finally ending up at the chief's side once more. "This isn't a good idea." He stated boldly.

Stoick never once looked at him. "The Hofferson girl was a wonderful warrior," he said shortly. "Her death will be avenged."

"She hasn't come back. That doesn't mean she's dead," Gobber told him.

"She's as good as," Stoick snapped. "Hiccup is dangerous."

"That's your son."

"He's killed before. He wouldn't hesitate to do it again."

Something previously disconnected clicked suddenly in the blacksmith's brain. "Stoick…that blizzard…Valhallarama…Stoick, he was only four when it—

"Gobber," Stoick responded, turning at last to face his friend; there were dark circles under his eyes and his face was lined with age. "Do me a favor and shut up."

Gobber shook his head slightly, mentally replaying their conversation in his mind: _"Hiccup is dangerous."_

"_That's your son."_

"_He's killed before."_

"Are you going to see him alone?" Gobber asked finally, just to break the heavy silence between them.

"It seems so," Stoick replied stoutly. "Not many people are willing to come so close to the monster."

"That's your son." Gobber repeated. "How can you speak about him this way?"

"Open your eyes, damn it!" Stoick yelled, finally losing his temper. "He killed his mother and now he's just killed another girl! He sent down some sort of blizzard here that will continue until every one of us is dead from frostbite, or damn near close to it—

"Look!" The Jorgenson boy suddenly and smoothly interrupted their argument; had he been listening the whole time?

He didn't need to point, for the boat was already so close to the docks, and everybody could see the small blonde girl on it, shivering violently the closer she got to their island.

Stoick and Gobber instinctively stepped out of the way of the small boat and the boat docked quietly.

There was complete silence for a second, a silence in which everybody stared at the boat. And then Astrid Hofferson jumped down from it, shivering violently, wracked with cold, hugging herself tightly. "C-cold," she whispered. "C-cold."

Mr. Hofferson rushed forward, picking his daughter up in his arms. "My angel," he breathed. "My angel, it's alright, we'll get you warm…"

"What happened to you?" Mrs. Hofferson whispered, horrified, as she ran forward with her husband. "Darling, what happened?"

It was clear that consciousness was a struggle for the girl, but she managed to stay in reality long enough to murmur, "Hiccup…went…crazy…dangerous monster…_cold_…"

* * *

Astrid Hofferson was barely conscious, but the sunlight streaming in through her window and the terrible cold she felt all over her body was not a dream. She had blankets piled two feet high on top of her; she should have been warm.

Yet still she lay there shivering, alone in the comfort and warmth of her bedroom, wondering what had happened. The last thing she remembered was docking on Berk, jumping out of the boat and falling to her knees…her father had picked her up, hadn't he? Her mother had asked her what had happened, hadn't she?

Astrid had wanted to tell them that they couldn't go to his island; that ice dragon would tear them apart. She had a feeling she hadn't said this in so many words; the important thing wasn't that, however. Had she correctly conveyed what they were up against, or had she mumbled something unintelligible? She could no longer remember.

She groaned, putting a hand on her head just as her door opened and Mrs. Hofferson walked in to greet her daughter. Like daughter, like mother, because Mrs. Hofferson was normally fierce and unafraid…strange how a simple thing like watching her daughter shiver could bring out a fear Astrid had never seen in her mother's eyes.

Mrs. Hofferson was holding yet another blanket and Astrid drank in the welcome sight of it, although she knew she had too many already. She just couldn't get warm.

"What happened to me?" Astrid asked quietly, sitting up in bed as her mother came over and let the blanket fall on her.

Mrs. Hofferson smoothed down her daughter's blonde hair; only now did Astrid realize that somebody had taken it out of its trademark braid and it drifted in pale gold curls around her shoulders. "Maybe you could tell us, sweetheart. The most we can tell you is what's been happening since you docked."

Astrid swiped her bangs out of her eyes, trying to hold them on the top of her head so they wouldn't get in her eyes any longer. "Well, what has been happening since I docked?" Maybe hearing about it would help get her mind off things.

As her mother related the story, nothing immediately stuck out to her except two things. "We also called the healer for your condition, sweetheart, it's…" she squeezed her daughter's hand affectionately. "It can be stopped, what you're going through."

"It can be?" Astrid asked blankly. "It's just a prolonged reaction to the cold, Mom, it's nothing—

"No, sweetheart, your heart…" her mother studied the blanket for a long moment. "Your heart has been frozen. And there's only one thing that can stop it."


	10. Castle Breach

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 10: Castle Breach

**A/N: Sup. Um. Yeah. This chapter took me awhile, but it is a bit longer than most of my chapters. Being completely honest, I like it. At least the parts with Stoick and Hiccup. The parts with Astrid are a bit short, because I meant to alternate between Astrid and her mother and Hiccup and Stoick, but the thing was, I got so into one of the Hiccup Stoick parts that I forgot to write in a scene with Astrid XD**

* * *

Stoick's initial reaction?

Awe at the handiwork, if we're being completely honest. He stared up for a second at the glistening purple, white and blue that shone brightly in the dazzling sunlight. He shaded his eyes against the sun as he looked up at it; the sheer beauty of the structure took his breath away.

And then he shook off his wonder with a scowl. Those gleaming towers and turrets housed a truly brutal monster. He couldn't afford to get wonder-struck by good architecture. He had to focus. He had come here for a very specific reason. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked.

He took another step forward; the ice creaked under his weight. He looked down at the steps and noted the snowflake imprint in each.

_Yet another reason Hiccup deserved to be punished._

He needed to be reminded that using his powers was wrong; that it could kill people, just like it had killed his mother all those years ago. Stoick's renewed determination pushed him forward, up the glacial steps and to the great, purple double doors. The snowflake imprint was much larger here, spanning across both doors.

Stoick reached out for the door, the slightest hesitation creeping in as his fingers met the cold, hard surface. He pushed it open, at the same time pushing back all of his hesitations and fears. He couldn't afford to be afraid. He thought of Astrid Hofferson, the girl who had visited him last. She had come back ice cold and shaking. She had come back with a frozen heart.

But that was her, Stoick reminded himself with a shrug. It wasn't like Hiccup would dare do that to him; or if he did, Stoick would make him regret it.

* * *

"What?" Astrid's whisper broke the silence. "What are you talking about? A frozen heart? I mean…that's…that's…"

"In the times when the gods still walked the earth in their human forms, there were evils such as frozen hearts all the time." Her mother looked at her pointedly as she smoothed her daughter's hair again, forcibly reminding Astrid of all the times she would sit by the fire with her parents and hear tales of the gods. Myths like these had been fresh in her mind in her childhood, but thinking back on it now, a frozen heart sounded so preposterous.

She glanced down at herself, her hands tightly curled into fists. "'True love will thaw a frozen heart'," she recited flawlessly. "But, Mom, I don't think—

"Sweetheart, this is dangerous." Mrs. Hofferson responded sternly. "An act of true love is normally thought to be a kiss between two people who are deeply in love. I need you to think if there is anybody out there who could cure you of this. Isn't there anybody out there for this?"

* * *

Stoick was rather surprised to reach the doors of Hiccup's castle unharmed and with no attacks, but he had little time to remark upon his relief; he opened the purple double doors and slid carefully inside the icy building, his breath misting from the freezing air.

He glanced around the slightly eerie foyer, turning a full circle to take in the full beauty of the palace built here.

The second time around, he caught a flash of warm color that didn't belong in this place; glancing around for it again, he realized his son was standing there, frozen with fear, his hands shaking. He had discarded his Berk clothing for sparkling armor made of ice. Spiked shoulders and a glittering cloak swirling with tiny snowflakes and icicles hanging from every staircase, a light dusting of snow in the boy's hair…

Though he looked so much more natural here, surrounded by his true element, he didn't look happy. He looked terrified. His hands were shaking; he reached out and gripped the wall to steady himself. Stoick half-expected him to say something defensive and sharp, but the other part of him expected Hiccup to come forward with his head bowed and his hands up in submission.

Hiccup did neither of these things, however. He stared at his father in horrified shock for another instant and then shook his head slightly, in utter disbelief that the man could have found him here. And then he turned around and ran, up the staircase, down several hallways and weaving in and out through rooms, trying desperately to lose Stoick in the icy maze.

Stoick gave a startled cry, but this only seemed to make Hiccup move faster. The Viking chieftain then did the only thing that came naturally; he chased his son, up the staircase and through the hallways.

Hiccup glanced behind him only once and turned to keep running, throwing open another door. This room had only one other pair of doors, thrown wide open to reveal the balcony they led to.

The boy's breath hitched as he realized he had nowhere to go; there was no escaping his father anymore. There were no clever tricks to pull, no defense he could offer.

_So much for you can't hurt me anymore._

His father entered the room after him, looking around furiously and spotting the boy crouched fearfully against the wall. Hiccup took a deep breath.

Stoick made a move towards him, taking a step forward, his hands curling into fists, one going automatically to his sword.

"Please," Hiccup pleaded desperately, losing his footing as he frantically stumbled backward, meeting the wall of ice behind him. With nowhere to go, he simply crouched there in terror, awaiting the blow that he knew would end his life.

* * *

Astrid thought. She considered it as she ran through everything that had happened and somewhere in the back of her brain, a voice quietly insisted that she could cure the frozen heart. The answer was right in front of her. The problem was also the solution.

But her brain was moving slowly today and for some reason, with the answer on the tip of her tongue, she found she didn't quite know it.

_The problem is the solution. Think, Astrid. You know the answer to this. _

* * *

As Hiccup crouched there against the wall, about to bring his arms over his head, about to try and protect himself from the blows, he realized Stoick had already reached him and that he wasn't reaching out to hit him; rather, he was reaching out to grab him.

He did often use one hand to hold the boy still while he hit him with the other, but this time he grabbed the boy by the wrist and, instead of bringing up his other hand to land a blow, he merely began dragging the boy back towards the door.

The lack of violence so far was surprising and, to Hiccup, at least, encouraging. "Where are we going?" he tried to break free from his father's grip, but the man was too strong.

"I'm taking you back to Berk," Stoick snarled. "So you can stop the winter."

"Let me go!" Hiccup tried to sound forceful and not scared at the mere idea of having to go back to that hellhole. Again, he tried to jerk away, but the chief held him fast.

He allowed himself to be dragged painfully along for a few more moments, wincing slightly at the pain of Stoick's firm grip. And then he glanced down at his hand, the one Stoick did not hold in a death grip…and he hesitated. He stared down at his palm, all covered with snow and glowing a brighter and brighter blue as the power became undone all over again, what little control he had managed to gain fleeing in his terror and hesitation.

By that point he knew that using his powers around his father was going to be an unavoidable task, but it always had been. And this time, he thought, his heart beating rather hard as he tried to think only of getting away and not of Stoick's reaction to him doing it, this time his father wouldn't hit him. He couldn't hit what he couldn't catch.

His heart hammering away in his chest, he turned his hand on Stoick, silently willing the ice to come, willing it to happen. And when it did, when Stoick was temporarily disoriented from the ice blast and his grip on his son's wrist slackened, Hiccup broke free and ran.


	11. Control

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 11: Control

* * *

Astrid took a deep, steadying breath and looked her mother straight in the eye. She thought she understood now; her unconscious knowledge was suddenly becoming conscious and with it came a sudden burst of clarity. Everything was laid out before her clearly now. She didn't need a kiss from her one, true love to heal her, because she didn't have a one true love. But she did have something on her side, she had a possibility, a mere glint of hope on the horizon, to save herself and her once-best friend.

Her uncertainty must've showed on her face, because concern overtook her mother's features. Instead of responding to this silent communication, Astrid forced her lips into a smile and said simply, "Actually, there is someone who could help."

* * *

Hiccup streaked away from his father, his heart pounding crazily against his ribs. _What am I doing? What am I doing? He's going to catch up and then he's going to kill me…what am I doing?_

Maybe it was stupidity, or maybe it was fear. Maybe it was some sort of instinct to save his own life that made him keep running, but, whatever the reason, he kept on going through doors and up the staircases Stoick had just dragged him so easily back down. He came up to the top floor again, leaning out against the balcony doors, shoving them open, just in case. He wasn't quite sure what situation would call for use of a balcony, but then, thirty minutes ago, he hadn't known what situation would call for him to run so hard his chest hurt afterwards, either.

He took a deep, steadying breath. The door was closed, but not bolted. All Stoick had to do was open it and step inside.

_But then he'll have me to contend with, _Hiccup encouraged himself. _And I'm not letting him hurt me again. He won't ever beat me again. No more bruises. No more lying. No more concealing and no more not feeling._

Sure enough, the door swung open seconds later with a violence that should have shaken the whole structure to its foundations. Hiccup pressed one hand against the wall behind him, feeling uncertainty and fear creep into his chest at the sight of his father. Could he really stand up to this man?

* * *

Mrs. Hofferson looked at her daughter with hope in her eyes. "We…we can fix this, sweetheart. If that's true, then we can fix this, can't we?" Her voice was uncertain and tremulous.

Astrid nodded. Her mother had not released her hand all this time, even though Astrid's skin was slowly becoming like ice, so slowly that neither even noticed.

"Who is it, then, Astrid?" her mother whispered, sitting up on the bed beside her daughter and smoothing down her pale blonde curls again. "Who is it, sweetie?"

Hiccup closed his hands into fists. The power was building up. It was going to burst out of him anyway; strong emotions, like fear, always made it harder to control.

Stoick took a step closer to him, reaching out to grab his arm again.

Hiccup tried to move away, but he was pressed up against the wall. "Stay away," he begged. "Please, just stay _away_."

The disgusted look on Stoick's face was what made Hiccup's decision for him. He opened his hands, allowing the power to come freely, willing it to come, trying to latch onto some form of control with it.

The icicles rained down in a defensive ring around him, sharp and threatening. Stoick stopped short of them, staring down at the sparkling separation between them for a second. When he lifted his eyes to Hiccup's uncertain green ones, the darker pair was filled with rage.

Stoick took a careful step forward, trying to avoid the icicles as he made another grab for Hiccup.

"Go _away_!" Hiccup howled, and this outburst brought another blast of ice raining down, nearly felling Stoick where he stood, but the chieftain was quick. He was certainly quicker than he looked as he realized what was about to happen and jumped out of the way. His gray eyes darkened with hatred as he stared at his son, protected and sheltered by the one thing that had hurt everyone around him for as long as he could remember.

"Go away!" Hiccup repeated, trying to sound forceful. "Just go!"

"No," Stoick breathed fiercely, staring down in rage at the icicles blocking his path. "You _will_ be coming back to Berk and you _will_ be stopping the winter, otherwise, so help me, you will be reunited with your mother so fast _your head will spin_."

Hiccup shuddered slightly at the savagery and fury in his father's tone; although he had heard similar threats all his life, it didn't make them any less scary when he heard them again. "I can't!" he finally screamed and the simple, helpless terror he felt then brought him to his knees as the doors began blowing in the sudden wind that sprang up. He could sense the blizzard that was coming and he only wanted to stop it, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't.

"I can't stop this." he whispered, shaking and trembling, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind. "You know that. You know I can't stop it."

"Well, you had better learn how," Stoick threatened, his voice a low murmur, but still loud enough to reach Hiccup's ears. "Or so help me, I will make you."

Hiccup clenched his hands into fists; should he continue to use his power to defend himself, or was he only digging himself a deeper grave every time he nearly hurt Stoick? Uncertainty and fear made his heart beat faster and he sat there silently, in the middle of his ring of ice. The one thing he knew was that he could not allow himself to be dragged back to Berk. That would be the start of his old life all over again, the life he'd sworn to himself that he would leave behind. What had happened to that pledge? he wondered dismally. The night he had accidentally let it go was the night he had promised a better life for himself, one that didn't include beatings and bruises or lies. He had promised freedom and happiness and eternal bliss; what had happened to that promise?

Stoick knelt down next to his son, watching the boy tremble, watching the boy stare down at his hands.

"I can't." Hiccup whispered brokenly, still studying his hands, refusing to look at Stoick. "I'm useless. You know that. You know I can't do anything."

"You will do it." Stoick declared angrily, standing up again and taking a step towards his son. Hiccup flinched backward slightly, his hands curling into fists as he did. "You're going to bring back summer."

"You know I can't— Hiccup tried weakly, but Stoick's eyes burned when he turned them on Hiccup and when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

"You will bring back summer or I will beat it out of you."


	12. Listen

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 12: Listen

**A/N: Um...I don't know about this chapter. Thank you guys for all the reviews, though :D 94 :D I'm a lucky person who did not expect this much of a response, let alone a positive one!**

* * *

"Now come back."

Hiccup shuddered, but he tightened his lips and tried to be brave nonetheless. He hadn't just nearly hurt his father several times for nothing. "I'm not coming back."

"Yes. You. Will." Stoick spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, the threat in his voice even clearer than it had been two seconds ago.

Hiccup pulled his knees up to his chest, safe inside his icy defense mechanism. Stoick wouldn't rest, wouldn't leave him alone until he _did_ stop the winter. But he didn't know how. He gritted his teeth, trying to blink back the tears of frustration that threatened. He didn't want his father to think he was sobbing in fear. He was upset because nobody was listening to him – _again_. But this was the time that they _should_ listen to him, the time that it mattered the most. Why wasn't anyone listening now?

He couldn't stop the winter and he had said as much. What more did these people want? It wasn't like he was out-and-out _trying_ to be useless about this.

"You're only making matters worse for yourself."

Hiccup glanced up fearfully, shaken out of his thoughts to see his father still there. He knew from experience that begging got him nowhere with this man, but still he sat up on his knees and tried to get his father to listen. No doubt about it, these past few days had been the strangest of his life. Although his father was threatening – no, wait, _promising_ – a terrible beating when he did eventually get his hands on Hiccup, although these past few days had been wonderful as well as terrible, every one of them felt new and indescribable to Hiccup. He had been using his powers so much, he had had a real talk, however brief, with his childhood best friend again, after not speaking to her for so long. His own father was sitting a mere foot away from him and there was no physical violence involved as of yet. They were just talking – albeit Stoick's words were mostly threats, but it was still the longest conversation Hiccup had ever carried on with his father before, and this was another new and strange thing to him.

Hiccup pushed these thoughts away and tried to find the right words. "I'm…it's…you don't understand." He managed. He licked his lips in a nervous anxiety, pushed his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead and tried again. "The winter should go away on its own. That's what it does. Or, it's what it's supposed to do."

"Is that all you have to say?" Stoick sneered. "You're not making a very compelling case for yourself, Hiccup, and the fact is, it doesn't change anything whether the ice melts or not. The fact is that you used your powers at all, even after being reminded time and again that you should never do that."

"I'm not hurting anyone this time." Hiccup found tears in his eyes at his father's words and he blinked several times in a row. One tear did slip out and make its way down his cheek, but he used his sleeve to wipe it away before Stoick even noticed.

"People are dying!" Stoick thundered. "Everybody on that godforsaken island is getting frostbite! People are getting sicknesses they can't bounce back from! And _it's not melting_!"

And here, he did something a bit risky; he took a step forward, planting a foot firmly between two icicles that Hiccup had created, grabbed one of the boy's hands in his much larger one and physically jerked his son out by the boy's small arm. He clasped his hand over both of Hiccup's, pleased to find that he was just in time; the boy's palms had been growing colder, a sign that the power was about to be released.

The cold flickered a bit as Hiccup debated on using it or pushing his powers back; but, reluctantly, he decided pushing his powers back was the best option here, seeing as it would only cause trouble right now. Not even his ice could make this man keep his distance. What would he have to do to be truly free?

_Go back to Berk. Go back to Berk, thaw the winter and flee back here._

There was only one little problem with that, Hiccup thought to himself sarcastically. He had _no idea_ how to do the second one. Not to mention he was terrified of doing the first.

If he went back to Berk now, after revealing himself and his powers, what would they think of him? What would the people say? His stomach lurched as memories of that night came back to him.

"_Sorcerer!"_

"_Monster!"_

"_Freak!"_

"_I always knew there was something wrong with you, boy!" _

As his palm grew colder and colder in distress, Stoick glanced down at the boy in fury and used one hand to grab at his sword from its scabbard.

Hiccup gasped and tried to break free from Stoick's grip, but the man wasn't interested in using the blade; instead, he turned it so the hilt was brought down firmly on Hiccup's head and his knees buckled. He clutched at his head in agony, blurry darkness threatening his vision.

He always knew he was one day going to have to face this darkness, this evil he had been cursed with. But why…why did it have to be so _hard_?

* * *

Astrid was surprised to hear the shouts floating in through her window. Her mother jumped up, looking scandalized, before peering out. Her face hardened and she turned away from her daughter, heading for the door.

"What's going on?" Astrid tried to scoot off the bed and towards the window, but another blast of cold brought her to her knees.

"It's nothing that would interest you." Her mother replied curtly, going back to her daughter and tucking the blanket firmly around her shoulders.

"No, Mom, what's wrong?"

"The chief is back." Mrs. Hofferson admitted reluctantly. "He's brought the…the…" her face twisted in disgust as she tried to put a name on the boy. "…the _thing_ with him." she settled on.

Astrid wasn't sure whether she ought to be angry that her mother had just called him a thing or not. She wasn't sure whether she ought to get angry on Hiccup's behalf of anything anymore. "I…Hiccup?" If he was powerful enough to freeze her heart, why wasn't he using that power on his father?

Her mother's lips tightened when she gave the name. "Yes, I suppose." she sniffed, as if the boy wasn't worthy of a name. "You stay right here. The chief is going to get him to bring back summer. And we'll get him to unfreeze your heart. You'll see."

Astrid put a hand over her chest, tugging the blankets closer to her, quaking with cold. Oddly enough, it wasn't like it was when she stood out in the snow too long and began going numb; each pang of cold just reminded her that she could still feel it.

"He can't." she whispered. The words hung in the air for a second, barely audible, barely there.

Mrs. Hofferson turned sharply around to stare at her daughter. "What?"

"It's a waste of time." Astrid pulled her knees up to her chest in an effort to lock in some body heat. "He's already told me himself that he can't stop the winter."

Mrs. Hofferson's blue eyes, so like her daughter's, hardened until they were like the ice coating everything outside Astrid's window. "And do you really believe him, sweetheart?"


	13. What Have I Done?

Gift or Curse?

_Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes._

Chapter 13: What Have I Done?

**A/N: This chapter, as well as its title, are based heavily off a drawing by RazzlePazzleDooDot (the drawing is up on DeviantArt, for those who are curious :D) and also based off my own sadistic imagination and love of causing Hiccup emotional and/or physical pain. (mostly emotional, but I'm not afraid to give him a bad injury when need be.) Last chapter was pretty eventful, so I'm hoping that this chapter's lack of action won't disappoint too many people. Next chapter should probably be more interesting.**

**Also, hopefully, you guys won't think too badly of Astrid's parents. I really don't care if you do or don't, honestly. I don't like them much, either, but they're acting this way because this boy rained down an eternal winter on their home and then turned around and froze their daughter's heart. Talk about your complicated friendships, huh.**

**Anyway, guess what happened last night? :D YES THAT'S RIGHT I HIT 100 REVIEWS AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY! Thank you all! Everybody who reviewed/read/followed/favorited/lurked. I am one lucky, lucky person!**

* * *

Hiccup tried, really tried, to stay conscious. Stoick's sword hilt hit his head, he collapsed on the floor, clutching at his head, fingers tangled in his hair as blackness threatened his vision. He blinked several times, trying hard to push the pain and darkness away, but the dark spots overwhelmed him and he sank to his knees. His arms were heavy and too hard to move, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to fight it.

His eyes drifted closed, but just before they did, he felt a strong hand lifting him up, dragging him off the floor and he knew where he was going with frightening clarity.

* * *

Astrid sat alone in her room for a second, completely unsure what to think. She watched her mother walk to the door, she watched her slowly push it open and begin heading out. Mrs. Hofferson's footsteps pounded on each stair.

Astrid threw the blanket off and scrambled as quickly as she could – which really wasn't that quickly, under the circumstances – over to the window and looked out, catching her breath. Maybe it was just her, but the winter seemed to be even worse than it had been when she'd left. The snow was coming down faster than before, and she could hear shouts coming from the docks as the chieftain jumped down from the boat, holding a limp form in his arms.

Even from this distance, Astrid recognized the auburn hair and the sparkling ice, gleaming under the early afternoon sun. She sank to the ground in horror. What had happened while she was asleep? She hadn't even been aware that the chief had gone to look for his son and now he came back with the boy's limp and unconscious body in his arms.

_That explains why he didn't just use his powers on Stoick the way he did you. _

She swallowed, trying hard to push that thought away. What was going to happen to Hiccup? Stoick hadn't…killed him, had he?

From this distance, she couldn't see if the boy's chest was moving up and down or not, but she sincerely hoped it was. She wouldn't have believed her chieftain of such an act if she hadn't heard him talking to Gobber just – wow, had it really only been a few days ago? – the other day about using force if necessary.

She hadn't liked the sound of that. Not at all.

It looked like Stoick really had used force to get him to stop the winter, but rather than make it better, it seemed to have only made things worse. Judging by how much more ice and snow coated the village now, she was guessing the chief had done nothing but scare his son into unintentionally unleashing his powers even further.

She felt her cheek hit the ice cold windowsill, propping herself up on her arms to keep herself upright. She watched everything occurring sideways; Stoick wouldn't let Hiccup go, even though Gobber tried to take the boy from him. Stoick tightened his grip on the boy and stalked off, shaking off many villagers who were clearly overjoyed that he had not returned in the same fashion Astrid had.

She saw Stoick disappear into a building and watched the rest of the villagers peel away, clearly disappointed; perhaps they had hoped for a better story than what had occurred, or maybe they were as curious as Astrid about Hiccup and Stoick and what might possibly have occurred between them.

Gobber stood alone on the docks, his arms still outstretched, still willing to take Hiccup, but, when it became clear that Stoick truly was gone and had taken Hiccup with him, Gobber slowly let his arms drop back to his sides, shaking his head in the same disappointed fashion the other villagers had.

When Gobber had wandered off as well, Astrid found she had nothing to watch anymore, except the clouds. She fascinated herself with the sky for a few long minutes before a soft knock sounded on her door.

"Astrid? Are you awake?" Mr. Hofferson softly pushed his door open, his brown eyes widening a bit in surprise when he saw her over by the window. "Are you feeling all right?" He shut the door behind him, to keep the cold out, Astrid guessed.

Astrid, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by all the questions, tried to answer as best she could. "Oh…um…I'm okay. I'm feeling okay." Not really, she reminded herself as she shuddered a bit with cold, but pride kept her from reaching for the blanket that had fallen off the side of her bed.

The scene she had watched occur on the docks ran through her mind again and she took a deep breath. "I think the chief is wrong."

Her father's brow knitted in confusion and he knelt down next to his daughter. "Astrid…" he began, in a voice that suggested he thought she was mentally unstable.

"I think the chief is wrong," she repeated softly. "I don't think Hiccup can stop the winter."

Mr. Hofferson's lips tightened upon hearing that boy's name spoken in his house, by his daughter, no less. "Maybe not," he admitted, "but we'll get him to unfreeze your heart."

"What about…?" Astrid began uncertainly. "Only an act of true love…?"

"We'll get him to unfreeze it." Her father repeated in a hard voice. "The chief has promised us that he will."

* * *

Hiccup didn't notice how cold the dirty stone floor was when he woke up lying on it. A nasty headache began around his temples, throbbing and aching. He gave a small groan and lifted himself up on his knees. When he caught the near-blinding light of the early afternoon sun through a grimy, cracked window, he groaned, dropped to the ground again, and shut his eyes tightly. A cold wind blew in through the cracks, swirling around him in his little cell. He tried to rush to the window.

This idea was dismissed as quickly as it had been seized, for, when Hiccup attempted to run to the dirty glass structure, he found he was held back. Glancing down, he saw iron shackles that completely encased his hands; ice was growing on the iron, spreading all around the room and, hard as he tried, he could not make it stop.

The window wasn't just dirty and smashed, it was caked with snow; icicles clung stubbornly to the sill and the howling blizzard outside was only making everything worse. Hiccup could only stare out at the frozen landscape in horror.

_"People are dying! People are getting sicknesses they can't bounce back from! And it's not melting!"_

"What have I done?" he whispered through white lips. "What have I done?" His legs were shaking beneath him, threatening to give way beneath him. His father was right about him. He was dangerous. He was a monster. He was a killer. He was killing people with this storm. He couldn't stop it. As if to underline this point, a bit more ice grew on the thick shackles, creaking as it spread around the room.

He closed his eyes. Not all the concealing and not feeling in the world could help him now.


End file.
